A Thousand Cranes
by Alashiya
Summary: More "Falling Leaves"; Mad Jack lovers, we know you're out there!
1. Default Chapter

A THOUSAND CRANES  
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: The "Mountains of Madness," the Old Ones, and Abdul al- Hazred were created by H. P. Lovecraft  
  
The Hounds of Tindalos were created by Frank Belknap Long.  
  
The world was very old, older than even scientists knew, older than even Aku had known, very old with elder secrets in its depths, secrets that moved and muttered in those places where sunlight had never shone. Samurai Jack, the namesake of thousands of hospitals and schools, parks and buildings, had been to great heights and depths in his wanderings, but still there were things and places that even he had never beheld. In one of those places, deep beneath the Mountains of Madness, there dwelled Zankoku.  
  
Aku had known Zankoku, and so, not wanting a challenge, he had always stayed well away from the dreaded Mountains, though he need not have worried. Zankoku was one of the Old Ones, and the Old Ones were patient. They were also wise. If Zankoku had challenged Aku, Aku and Samurai Jack would have dropped their own quarrel to unite against him, for Zankoku was Outside, and all things of Earth were opposed to his kind. So he had waited patiently for the Earth's two equally matched great powers, Aku and Samurai Jack, to kill each other.  
  
The Old Ones were wise, but not omnipotent; Zankoku had slightly miscalculated. The two Earthly powers had not been quite equal after all; one had been a little stronger than the other, and so Aku had died at what Zankoku thought of as the four hands of Samurai Jack. The Old Ones had no concept of individuality. Had Zankoku devoted sufficient thought to the matter, his considerable intelligence might have come to grasp, in a hazy way, that Samurai Jack and Mad Jack were two separate humans, but he had never bothered to consider that, so to him, they were a bipartite creature, identical in bone and blood, DNA and soul.  
  
Zankoku knew something of souls.  
  
Deep in his lair, he worked his spell.  
  
******************************************  
  
The ceremonies for the sixth annual World Freedom Day were marked by an undertone of genuine joy, for finally the world was truly free, the last holdouts of the old, wicked regime having signed a treaty which Mad Jack had cheerfully presented to the assembled regents six days before World Freedom Day. His cheer had been genuine, too. Granted, he wouldn't get to fight much more, if ever, but on the other hand, now that countries were re- forming and once again managing their own affairs, his wife no longer had to try to manage the entire world, so all in all he felt he was still coming out ahead. Now Queen Kiku had only to manage that small portion of the world that was once again called Japan, and not even all of that; the mountainous areas fell under the sway of the various Highland clans. Hundreds of years ago, the Highlanders, who originally hailed from some place called "Scotland," had angered Aku, who had dumped them down into a country where they were utterly foreign, in the assumption they would wither there. The tough Highlanders had not obliged him; they had simply made themselves at home in their new mountains, eventually co-existing with their Japanese neighbors in a sort of mutual bemusement, each side believing the other to be as strange as they come. Mad Jack liked the Highlanders, himself. They had been a great help in the re-conquest of Aku's world. Mad Jack could fight like no one else in his time, but the myriad logistical details of running an army had been quite beyond him. It would have gone hard for him, and for the cause, if not for the brilliant organizational mind of Agatha MacNeal, the wife of Samurai Jack's great friend Colin. Mad Jack readily granted credit where it was due, and he made sure the Highlanders got their share of recognition at the ceremonies.  
  
What with all the rejoicing, the ceremonies had been lively indeed. Queen Kiku gave up and went to bed early, since she had two-week-old Daisuke to take care of, but Mad Jack stayed up and partied with the other dignitaries until dawn. By the time he finally walked (not quite steadily) into his bedroom, the shadowy figures of Kiku and the nursing baby were clearly visible even without turning on the lamp. He glanced at the clock: it said 04:55.  
  
"Did you enjoy yourself?" Kiku asked as he set his swords on the rack. He burped, and she said, "I will take that as a Yes."  
  
He went into the bathroom, brushed his teeth, tossed his good kimono across the towel hamper. Then he got into bed. Kiku was burping the baby, whose wide red eyes regarded his father with the solemnity of the newborn.  
  
"You've been here two weeks, it's time you earned your keep," Mad Jack said, stroking the tiny fist. "Tomorrow I will begin to teach you all my skills." Daisuke burped loudly. "Ah, you show promise."  
  
"Now that we have peace, you'll have little to do but teach. Why don't you start up a training program for samurai that we can put into the schools?" Kiku suggested.  
  
"If it still sounds like a good idea when I sober up, I will. If I can persuade Agatha to handle the administrative matters."  
  
"She loves the idea."  
  
"You asked her already? How could you be so sure that I would agree?"  
  
Kiku smiled in the dawn.  
  
"Hmmph!" Mad Jack said, and rolled over and went to sleep...  
  
"Father! Mother! Wake up!"  
  
Mad Jack squinted at the clock: 07:25. He had a confused impression that someone had been walking on his eyeballs.  
  
"Wake up!"  
  
"Ask your father," mumbled the queen of Japan.  
  
"No! Wake up!" Five-year-old Kozuke climbed astride his father and began bouncing up and down on Mad Jack's hips. "Wake-up-wake-up-wake-up!"  
  
Mad Jack squinted out the window, and the fuzzy thought crossed his fuzzy mind that the clock must be wrong, the sky didn't look like morning, even cloudy morning... He was distracted from considering the sky by Kozuke's small wooden katana whapping rhythmically against his leg. Kozuke had received his first set of little training swords last month, on his birthday, and, of course, he was wearing them, along with a "Samurai Jack" sweatshirt and his underwear. He had forgotten his pants, but he would never forget to put on the swords; he would have slept with them on if he could have come up with a way to do so.  
  
Whap-whap-whap. The insistent demands to wake up continued, as did the bouncing. Mad Jack's stomach lurched. "Kozu-chan, stop that!"  
  
Kozuke stopped bouncing. "Wake up! Father, wake up! Something's wrong!"  
  
Blinking, Mad Jack sat up; the cat scampered off the futon. "What?"  
  
"Something's wrong with the sky!" Kozuke pointed to the window. "What's wrong with the sky?"  
  
Mad Jack looked, and roused immediately. Kozuke was right. Something was wrong with the sky. It was a sickly pus-yellow color with hints of green. He'd never seen anything like that in all his ten years of life, nor was there any such phenomenon in the Samurai Jack memories he still held.  
  
"What's wrong?" Kozuke asked. "Why does the sky look like that?"  
  
"I don't know, Kozu-chan," Mad Jack said, dialing the guard center as he spoke.  
  
The screen popped on, showing a nervous-looking three-eyed alien. "General, have you noticed--"  
  
"Yes, we have. What is it, a tornado?"  
  
"No, sir, there's no bad weather for hundreds of miles. The Colonel's trying to decide whether to call a weather alert, and, if so, what kind."  
  
"Tell her to go ahead and call a tornado alert; that'll get everyone underground without frightening them unduly. Report on the whatever-it-is every five minutes." Mad Jack rang off and shook Kiku's shoulder. "Kozu- chan, go get your shoes and come right back. And your pants. Hurry!" Kozuke ran out. "Kiku-chan, wake up, we're going to the basement now!" He got up and began putting on the clothes he'd worn yesterday before changing to formal wear.  
  
Kiku was getting dressed. "I don't think that's a tornado."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"I don't know. Evil-looking, though."  
  
There were four sword racks in the room. Mad Jack grabbed the nearest set of swords to hand, which happened to include the katana he'd been born with, the one forged magically in the Pit of Hate. Later, he would wonder if his choice had been guided by the gods to whom Kiku prayed every day. Kozuke ran back in, and Mad Jack picked him up.  
  
"Everybody says it's a tornado," Kozuke said. "What's a tornado?"  
  
"Big wind. Tears up buildings and trees. That's why we're going to the basement to wait it out." Kiku had finished filling the diaper bag, and Mad Jack gave her a hand up--  
  
--and there was a loud pop, and the three of them vanished. The noise startled the baby awake, and he cried alone for a few minutes until the guard, alarmed when the general didn't reply to the first five-minute status report, sent a detail to check on the royal quarters.  
*********************************  
  
The king of Portugal had sent across the sea a huge painting of himself, in which, for some odd gaijin reason, he had included his family. He had also sent a famous Portuguese artist, which seemed a strong hint that he expected a reciprocal gesture from the new shogun, Tokugawa Toshiro, who had taken over last month for his retiring father. After discussion between himself, his family, and his advisors, Toshiro had concluded that the return gesture ought to be exactly equal to what had been sent, and so he, his heavily pregnant wife Hiroko, and their five-year- old daughter Tetsuko were here in the Chrysanthemum Room today to sit for the famous artist, with samurai and court ladies lining the periphery of the room, watching the preparations with interest. Father Jesus, the Jesuit, was helping to interpret, since the artist spoke no Japanese and Toshiro was the only court member who understood any Portuguese.  
  
Although Toshiro readily admitted that his Portuguese could most charitably be described as "basic," and although he respected honest, sincere Father Jesus, still the new shogun could have wished for another interpreter. The black-robed priest reminded him too much of the residents of a monastery he had met in a distant time, a time when he had been known as Samurai Jack, and he never liked to have anything remind him of those days. For the most part, his four years in the future had been a miserable, lonely, terrifying experience that he wished to forget.  
  
The artist was saying something.  
  
"Senhor da Cunha," Father Jesus said, "says his majesty will want to know if my lord is wearing his sword with which he saved the world?"  
  
"No, I'm not. That sword--that sword is of--it--" Toshiro's limited Portugese failed him; he switched to Japanese. "That katana doesn't truly belong to me. It belongs to the people. Not only the people of this country, but all good people everywhere. I was entrusted to carry it for a certain purpose, and when with the help of the gods and my ancestors that purpose was accomplished, the katana went back to its place of honor; in fact, I have not so much as drawn it since Aku died." He considered. "I suppose if our friend the king wants to see it, I could put it on for the picture. He's a good and just king; I don't think it would mind sitting for him."  
  
The artist looked pleased.  
  
"Kazuo-san, please go get the magic katana," Toshiro said, and the samurai to whom he spoke bowed and left. Toshiro took off his own katana and set it on a table at the side of the room, out of the way. "Father, please ask the sensei where he'd like us to sit."  
  
"He would like to know if my lord would be willing to go outside and pose under the maple."  
  
That was fine with Toshiro. It was a nice September day, overcast but not too hot nor too cold. So they all put on their shoes and trooped outside, with Isao, one of the younger samurai, carrying the camp chair on which Hiroko would sit. When Kazuo returned with the sword, Toshiro put it on, and, following the artist's interpreted instructions, he sat on the ground slightly in front of Hiroko and to her right. While the artist pondered where to place little Tetsuko, the clouds thickened noticeably.  
  
"If it were earlier in the year," Lady Akiko observed, "I'd fear that those were tornado clouds."  
  
"It's getting quite dark," Hiroko agreed. "If the sensei doesn't make up his mind quickly, we may have to pose with umbrellas."  
  
Tetsuko scampered around, the artist pondered, the sky darkened. The clouds were taking on an odd, almost yellowish cast. Had there been any wind Toshiro would have erred on the side of caution and ended the session, but since the air was absolutely still he decided it would be safe to wait until the rain began. The birds were still singing and the insects were still flying, including those annoying autumn yellow jackets. From four hard years out in the weather, he knew that people didn't need to become seriously alarmed until the animals gave warning. So he sat patiently and waited.  
  
The artist spoke. Father Jesus said, "He'd like Tetsu-chan to stand right in front of her mother." She did. "Now to your right a little--"  
  
"Which way is right?" Tetsuko asked.  
  
"Towards Father," Hiroko said. Tetsuko stepped over.  
  
"A little more," Father Jesus said, interpreting. "A little more--a little more--back the other way a little--no, too much--"  
  
Tetsuko began to giggle, and Toshiro bit the inside of his cheek to suppress a grin.  
  
"Tetsu-chan, don't laugh in front of the sensei!" Hiroko sounded as if she were suppressing chuckles. There was something about the bearded artist, frowning intently over the placement of a five-year-old, that made Toshiro wonder if he could manage to hold back his own chuckling much longer.  
  
"More to the right, Tetsu-chan," Father Jesus said, and she moved over, pressing against Toshiro's left arm. "Good! Stop right there!"  
  
Tetsuko giggled. A wasp buzzed. The sky darkened. The buzzing stopped.  
  
"Don't move, my lord, there's a wasp on your head," Hiroko said, and he felt the light blow of her folded fan atop his head. "There, it's dead," she said, and brushed it off...  
  
...and, as her fingers skimmed over his hair, the family vanished.  
*********************************************  
  
The light in the cavern, what little there was of it, was bilious green, giving an evil glare to the whites of the eyes of four of the six bewildered people who found themselves standing on a rock floor covered with loose shale. The other two people's eyes didn't have whites. The sclera of their eyes, normally glowing red, now shone an oddly menacing purple.  
  
"Kuro-Jack-san? Kiku-san?" Toshiro said, squinting in the poor light.  
  
"Jack-san? Is that you?" Mad Jack said. "Who are they?"  
  
"My unworthy wife, Hiroko, and my useless child, Tetsuko," Toshiro said, and there were automatic little bows all around.  
  
"That's my worthless son, Kozuke," Mad Jack said.  
  
Toshiro couldn't see much of the little boy clinging to his mother's legs, except for his glowing eyes, but there was a very faint gleam that might have been teeth showing in a smile, so Toshiro smiled too and inclined his head. "Does anyone know where we are? Or when we are?"  
  
No one did. The adults took stock of the situation. It was grim. They did not know where or when they were, nor how they had come here. The three adult samurai were but lightly armed, and one of them might go into labor at any time. They had no food, water, or first-aid supplies. Their children were in danger. Mad Jack's family was slightly better off in the matter of clothing, all three of them wearing jeans, sweatshirts, and sneakers, but nobody was really dressed to traverse rough terrain, and certainly not to go into combat, should combat occur. Toshiro and his family were all dressed up for their portrait, all of them wearing light shoes and beautifully stitched silk kimono, Hiroko's and Tetsuko's being elaborately embroidered for autumn. He estimated that the three of them together probably had at least four thousand koku on their backs. He would have gladly paid at least that much for three pairs of hiking boots, and paid everything he had to send his family home safely. The only remotely good thing about their predicament seemed to be that, as Kiku said, "Thank the gods I hadn't picked up the baby yet!"  
  
The little boy with the glowing red eyes edged halfway out from behind his mother, looking at Toshiro in wonder. "You're Samurai Jack!"  
  
"He's your greatest admirer," Kiku said.  
  
Toshiro bowed, a little lower this time.  
  
"Father," Tetsuko said nervously, "let's go home! It's dark here and it stinks!"  
  
She was right. The place did stink, smelling of must and damp, with a troubling undertone of carrion.  
  
"What is this place?" Tetsuko continued.  
  
"I don't know, but you're right, we need to leave. You stay with Mother and Kuro-Jack-san and I will look for a door."  
  
"I'll go that way," Mad Jack said, with a slight inclination of his head, and Toshiro walked over to the cave wall and started around the other way, going slowly and carefully, searching for a draft or a glimmer of outside light that would indicate a passageway. Behind him he heard mechanical clicks. Kiku was trying a phone, and explaining in a low voice to Hiroko what she was about.  
  
"Any luck?" Toshiro said.  
  
"Nothing," Kiku said. "And it's a field phone. We must be quite far underground."  
  
"Or there's nobody left aboveground to hear you," Toshiro said. "Whatever it is, this disaster may have affected everyone, not only us." He continued on with his search. The longer he was in this cavern, the less he liked it. The walls were dry, no water rolling down; it was unnatural. Even more unnatural was the gray mold growing on the walls in this dry atmosphere, the mold giving off that eldritch light. Usually Toshiro enjoyed looking at cavern formations, but the ones here were singularly lacking in grace or beauty. Even the ones not covered with the mold were ugly. If, he thought, you could catch a group of demons by surprise and suddenly turn them into cavern formations, they'd end up looking like these.  
  
And, he thought with growing unease, for all he knew, that was exactly what had happened here.  
  
"This magical thing Kiku-san has," Hiroko said suddenly. "The phone. Can other people summon us with it?"  
  
"They can if we get to where it'll work," Kiku said. "I'll leave it on."  
  
Mad Jack said suddenly, "Take a look at this. Watch out for the loose shale." Walking carefully, the others joined him. He was crouching beside a slime-covered boulder, and as Hiroko approached he glanced up at her, smiling wryly. "Hell of a way to meet the in-laws, isn't it?"  
  
"My lord has mentioned you once or twice." She regarded Mad Jack with interest. "You do look very much like him. He says that, in a sense, you are him."  
  
"I think I'm an improvement on the original." Mad Jack stood up. "There's a draft here, and I think I see a passageway, but the smell seems to originate there. Do we try to move this rock, or do we leave well enough alone?"  
  
"Maybe someone put the rock there to block the smell and whatever causes it." Hiroko thoughtfully poked her foot into the narrow passage. "It's a strange place for a rock to be by coincidence."  
  
"That's what I was thinking," Mad Jack said. "But then again..."  
  
"Then again," Toshiro said, "if we do nothing, we're likely to get very thirsty before we are found. If ever we are."  
  
Kiku looked up. "We haven't tried the ceiling..."  
  
"Too risky," Toshiro said. "If whoever climbed up there fell, we'd never get him out. I wouldn't try it yet."  
  
Kozuke peeked out from behind Kiku. "I can fit through that crack, I'll go look."  
  
"Oh, no, you won't!" his mother said firmly.  
  
"I'm not afraid!" he said from behind her. "I'm a samurai!"  
  
"I think we should all stay together for now," Toshiro said tactfully.  
  
"That does raise the issue, though," Mad Jack said. "Even if we can move the rock, as far as I can tell that passage will only admit one person at a time, and it may narrow, or drop off, further on. Somebody will have to explore it. We can't all start down blindly."  
  
"I'll go," Toshiro said.  
  
"No, I'll go."  
  
"No, I'll go."  
  
"I said, I'll go!"  
  
"I'll do it, you protect everyone else--"  
  
"I'm going!"  
  
"Toss a coin!" Kiku said impatiently, fishing one out of her pocket. "Here, Jack-san."  
  
He squinted at it in the ugly light as something about it caught his eye. "Is that my face on there?"  
  
"You're on the ten-yen, I'm on the five-yen," Mad Jack said.  
  
"That's an improvement from when Aku was on all of them," Toshiro said. "Call it in the air."  
  
"Tails," Mad Jack said.  
  
"It's heads," Toshiro said, returning the coin. "Let's see if we can get this rock out of the way."  
  
Hiroko kept the children well out of the way as the other three strained at the boulder. With much effort, they finally got the rock moved far enough that the men could squeeze in between the rock and the wall with bent knees and then straighten, pushing with their legs. That did it; the boulder finally rolled, with a surprisingly loud rumble.  
  
"There's a man!" Tetsuko said, clinging tightly to her mother.  
  
He had died prone. Whether the boulder had fallen on him and killed him, or whether he had already been dead, would never be known, but his crushed bones were bent backward in a U-shape. The gun that had been at his side was still holstered. Mad Jack cautiously drew it out and looked it over. "Good solid adamantium. It may work." He held the gun out to the women.  
  
Kiku started to take it, then paused, deferring to the samurai beside her.  
  
"Please, take it," Hiroko said. "I know how to fire a musket, but I've never seen a weapon like that." Kiku took the gun.  
  
Mad Jack resumed searching the dead man. "Almost everything he had was top of the line...ah. Adamantium water bottle. We can use that." There were a few shreds of faded clothing and desiccated flesh still clinging to the rock. He opened a pocketknife, using the blade to carefully peel a scrap of cloth from the stone. He squinted at it in the poor light. "Aku's mon. This man was a minion. A highly placed minion, judging by his expensive gear."  
  
The skeleton turned its head then, and Toshiro and Mad Jack both leaped back with startled yelps and drawn swords. The skeleton's jaws clacked. The children began to cry in fear. The skeleton seemed to be looking right at Toshiro as it clacked its jaws. Mad Jack started to attack, and Toshiro caught his shoulder. "Wait. He's not making any threatening moves."  
  
"He's dead!" Mad Jack indignantly shook Toshiro's hand off. "Any move he makes is a threatening move!"  
  
Clack, clack, clack, and somehow there was a pleading aspect to the hollow eye sockets.  
  
"I want to hear what he has to say," Toshiro said.  
  
Mad Jack glared at him. "And how will you do that, when he has no voice box?"  
  
"Hold up one hand," Toshiro said. Mad Jack glared and didn't move. "Hiroko-san! Help me out."  
  
She looked dubious, but stepped up obediently.  
  
"Did you know he was that stupid when you married him?" Mad Jack asked her.  
  
Toshiro ignored him. "Hold up your hand, Hiroko-san. Facing him." She did. He used his finger to "write" on her palm, pausing between characters. Can--we--help?  
  
Dry cracking noises as the skeleton moved its bony arms to write on its own palm. The children were sobbing. Kiku tried to soothe them. Toshiro strained his eyes to see the characters the skeleton sketched out. It had written Great danger.  
  
"There's an astounding revelation," Mad Jack said. "I am going to put a stop to this--"  
  
"Don't make me fight you now," Toshiro said quietly, and then he said to the skeleton, "Go on."  
  
I was Alric Bloodaxe.  
  
"Really," Mad Jack said, interested despite himself. He shot a quick glance backwards. "Don't be afraid. I know who he is now, and I can take him if he causes any trouble."  
  
"Who is he?" Toshiro asked. "Who was he?"  
  
"I've read about him. He was a famous minion. Hundreds of years before you came he led Aku's forces in the important battle of O'Hare. There was a critical airport there."  
  
"Airport?" Hiroko repeated.  
  
"Flying palanquins," Toshiro explained. "Go on, Alric."  
  
Aku feared me. I was gaining power. He sent me here and dropped this rock on me. I lived for four days. My soul is trapped here still.  
  
Kiku was reading Alric's story to the children, and they were quieting as they listened, interest quelling fear.  
  
He knew I never believed in him. I served him for the safety of my family. I think he was glad to have an excuse to send me to the Mountains of Madness and get rid of me.  
  
Toshiro noticed that Kiku substituted "here" for "Mountains of Madness" as she read to the children, and so he asked carefully, "Is this place well known?"  
  
"It is, and nothing good," Mad Jack said.  
  
Some of the others who were sent here spoke of Samurai Jack before they died, and the great general Kuro-Jack. I know who you are. I thank you for avenging me.  
  
They bowed.  
  
"Is he a good spirit?" Tetsuko asked uncertainly.  
  
"I guess he is, he's a friend of your father's," Hiroko replied.  
  
Samurai Jack was the man I should have been. I should have had the courage to resist Aku regardless of the cost.  
  
Toshiro glanced at his wife. "There are things a man will do for his family that he would never do for himself. I don't think we can criticize you since we have not been in your position."  
  
"Why do you keep calling my father 'Samurai Jack'?" Tetsuko asked. "That's not his name!"  
  
"At one time it was, Tetsu-chan," Toshiro replied.  
  
That name gave hope and courage even to those who died here.  
  
Toshiro bowed.  
  
I will help you get out.  
  
The women brightened.  
  
"Setting aside the question of your sincerity, famous minion," Mad Jack said, "one is constrained to point out that a person in your condition might find it difficult to help anybody do anything."  
  
Read the spell that will clothe me in flesh.  
  
Hiroko looked even more dubious. "So sorry, sir, we know no such spell."  
  
Look above you.  
  
She looked up. "There's writing on the ceiling! It glows! How could we not have noticed it?"  
  
"Strange things happen in the future," Toshiro said. He considered. Not wanting to take his eyes off Alric for very long, he continued, "Read the spell, Hiroko-san, and stay out of the way." He held his sword ready.  
  
Hiroko read the spell, and children and adults alike stared in wonder as white light swirled around the skeleton. Presently the light died away. Before them there stood a blonde, blue-eyed gaijin man wearing gray hakama decorated with Aku's mon. Shale skittered as he bowed to the floor. He held the bow for a long time, then sat back on his heels and spoke in fluent Japanese. "Samurai Jack, you honor me with your presence."  
  
"You speak the language very well, sir," Toshiro said.  
  
"Aku taught it to all his higher minions. Japan was his center of operations, after all."  
  
"A national disgrace that was remedied some years ago," Mad Jack said.  
  
Alric looked from one to the other, smiling faintly. "Meeting you two is like having an an audience with George Washington or William Wallace. You're everything our time had forgotten--until you reminded us."  
  
"Er--your gun--" Kiku began.  
  
"Keep it until you trust me."  
  
There was a slightly awkward pause.  
  
"Well, get up, that loose rock can't be comfortable," Mad Jack said finally. "Now, you said you know the way out?"  
  
"I do," Alric said, brushing off his front as he rose. "And that passage isn't it. It dead-ends not far down. I know because I tried it. And also, it's not as simple as just walking out. People are brought here for a reason. Since Aku is dead, the reason all of you were brought here must involve the Old Ones."  
  
"Who?" Toshiro said.  
  
"There's clean water not far from here. We'll go there and fill my bottle, and I'll explain, if we are given time. And while I'm on the subject of food and water, no matter how hungry you get, do not eat that mold. And make sure those children don't eat it."  
  
Toshiro thought he would have to be very hungry indeed even to consider eating that foul mold.  
  
"And now, follow me," Alric said, and led them across the cavern floor. 


	2. Chapter 2

TWO  
  
Alric led them down a narrow trail that no one had even noticed. The Japanese could walk upright, but Alric had to lean his head forward. The glowing mold grew sparsely here; they went slowly, carefully, more by touch than by sight.  
  
Tetsuko tugged at Toshiro's kimono. "Father?"  
  
"Mm?"  
  
"Am I useless? I try to be good."  
  
He picked her up so no one else could hear what was said. "Of course you aren't useless. But it's not polite to brag about one's family. So I couldn't tell Alric-san what I really think. Would you like to hear what I really think?" He felt her hair brush his cheek as she nodded. "I think you are beautiful and perfect and that the gods must have favored me very much to send you to me. I thank them for you every day. All right?"  
  
"All right." She sounded much happier.  
  
He set her down. "And I'd better keep my hands free in case I need to defend us."  
  
The passage widened a little, and the air became less stale. They were moving above a great natural room, in which there were a few miserable huts. The stench could be smelled way up on the trail. Things that looked like huge moving masses of that fungus moved about among the huts.  
  
"Behold some of the worshippers of Zankoku," Alric said. "Those were once human. You see what happens when people eat the fungus."  
  
Nobody said anything. There was nothing to say. They passed the village in silence.  
  
"Is everyone all right?" Alric asked.  
  
They were.  
  
"Can everyone hear me?"  
  
They could.  
  
"Then I will tell you what I think. I am certain that I know why two of you are here. I believe Zankoku wants to swallow your souls. I am frankly surprised to see the ladies and children. Zankoku would have no reason to want their souls, they aren't powerful warriors. His spell may simply have picked up everyone within a certain distance of the target."  
  
"Might he let them go, then?" Toshiro said.  
  
"I don't think he'd go to much trouble to stop them from leaving. He'll probably ignore them unless they become a nuisance to him. Their main concern would be his servants. The servants of Zankoku eat human flesh when they can. Watch your footing here, it gets steep and slippery. Hiroko-san, allow me to carry you, for your child's safety."  
  
"Go ahead," Toshiro said, so Hiroko wouldn't feel obligated to choose between safety and modesty. He heard a child skidding back and down. "Climb on my back, Tetsu-chan."  
  
"You too, Kozu-chan," Mad Jack put in, "and mind your head."  
  
Alric continued, "Zankoku is one of the Old Ones. They come from somewhere far beyond our solar system."  
  
"Our what?" Hiroko said.  
  
"There are other worlds, with other people living on them," Toshiro said.  
  
"So desu ka?" Hiroko said, intrigued.  
  
"It surprised me too," he said. "I never even told anyone because the idea was so unbelievable."  
  
"My lord may be sure that I will revise my ideas of what's unbelievable!--I'm sorry, Alric-san, I did not mean to interrupt you, please go ahead."  
  
"Be very careful now, to your left is a long drop," Alric said.  
  
"I hear water," Kozuke said.  
  
Toshiro cocked his head, and, after a moment, his adult hearing, less keen than the child's, also picked up the sound of a rushing river far below. He heard something else, too, more distant than the river, a kind of slopping, gurgling sound that he instinctively disliked.  
  
Alric continued, "The Old Ones have been interested in this planet-- this world--off and on for thousands of years. Nobody's sure why. At one time they seemed to be most interested in land, but Zankoku, at least, has shifted his focus to absorbing the souls of great warriors."  
  
Toshiro said, "When I was trapped in the future I met one of Aku's minions. His name was Demongo. He was holding the souls of warriors captive."  
  
The water rushed. Toshiro's foot skidded on the slippery floor, and his pulse was starting to quicken; this was a steep climb indeed. Kiku was breathing heavily.  
  
"Demongo!" Alric said with a short laugh. "There was the biggest braggart in all of Asia. I'm quite sure Samurai Jack made mincemeat of him."  
  
Toshiro had never heard of "mincemeat," but the meaning seemed clear enough from context. "I was fortunate enough to be able to free his captives."  
  
Alric still sounded amused. "Fortune had nothing to do with it, I can tell you that, and I wasn't even there. Demongo used to brag to me about how the warriors were all brawn and no brains. 'Keep the pressure on,' he'd say. 'Keep saying, "You can't win, you can't win," and before you know it, they'll give up!' And I'd smile and nod politely and think, 'You fool, you ought to make a contingency plan for the day when someone reasons it out!' I'm not at all surprised to learn that Samurai Jack was the one who finally reasoned it out.--What did Aku do with him?"  
  
"I don't know," Toshiro said.  
  
Kiku was beginning to gasp.  
  
"Take a rest," Alric said, and the party halted, though Toshiro would have preferred carrying both Kiku and Tetsuko to stopping. He wanted to get away from that strange slopping, dragging sound that made his spine crawl. Alric didn't seem bothered, though. He went on, "I'm glad you mentioned Demongo, Jack-san. If you're to have any hope of escape you must put out of your mind the idea that Zankoku is anything akin to Demongo. Demongo was holding those warriors' souls captive, but their souls still existed. They were still themselves. Zankoku doesn't want to subdue your soul. He wants to absorb it into his own foul essence, the way your body absorbs the food you eat. I've seen him do it. After he's done, the body wanders round here until it starves or falls over a precipice or into the water. And I've noticed--to everyone whose soul he eats, he first poses the question: 'Are you Samurai Jack?' I suppose you can consider that a form of flattery."  
  
"Have you seen anyone try saying Yes?" Hiroko asked.  
  
"They have. And he doesn't need to ask the question in the first place; he can see souls. I think he does it for the sadistic pleasure of watching the victim try to decide which answer might save him. What is significant is that he always asks 'Are you Samurai Jack?' rather than 'Are you Kuro-Jack?' or 'Are you Titan?' or Mantan or Tigron or any of the other great warriors one might name. He wants you badly, Jack-san, and so I fear what he might accomplish if he gets you."  
  
"I'm rested, let's get on," Kiku said, sounding as nervous as Toshiro felt.  
  
"I'm afraid there's no easy path," Alric said, beginning to walk again, "but I will take you along the least dangerous path. Now bear to your left, and we'll come to a safe pool."  
  
Nothing was so clear and cold and sweet as an underground spring. They all drank, and Kiku filled Alric's water bottle. Several passages branched off from the spring. Filtered outside light was visible in one passage, and it was into that one that their guide led them.  
  
"I will ask a favor," he said, "while there is still time to talk. Samurai Jack-san, if we win you through to the outside, before you leave, please strike me down with your magic sword. It will free me from the domain of the Old Ones."  
  
"If I live, I will not fail you," Toshiro promised.  
  
The path sloped up, more gently now, and the glowing mold began to decrease. The river rushed far below. The outside light, filtered through cracks above them, was growing stronger. Now Toshiro could see well enough that he could even read the designs on the Mad Jack family's sweatshirts. He was partly amused, and partly embarrassed, to see that Kozuke's red sweatshirt featured a picture of himself, with the legend GREAT WARRIOR SAMURAI JACK. Mad Jack's dark green sweatshirt said NAGASAKI KENJUTSU TOURNAMENT 2246. Kiku's pink sweatshirt had no legend, only cherry blossoms; it must be springtime here in the future.  
  
The path turned left, which bothered him; they were going towards the slopping, dragging noise. Something else bothered him too. Now that he could see better, he was noticing that the cave walls appeared to form angles with the floor and ceiling that, as best he could judge, were mathematically impossible. It took an effort of will to drag his attention away from trying to puzzle out those angles, to keep his mind on defense, and he could not shake the idea that some enemy had designed those impossible angles precisely for that reason.  
  
"The walls look funny," Tetsuko said. "What's wrong with them?"  
  
"I don't know, Tetsu-chan, but we'll leave soon." He hoped. "And then we won't come back."  
  
"I hear dogs," Kozuke said. "Or wolves."  
  
Toshiro listened. "Are you sure?"  
  
"I hear them too," Tetsuko said. "They're barking and howling."  
  
Toshiro listened harder, and finally he too heard them, very faintly, and the noise seemed to be coming from those impossible angles formed by the meeting of two walls of solid stone, where no animal could possibly get in. The incongruity tugged at his mind. He fought down an urge to walk over to one of those crazy angles and see what he could see.  
  
"You hear the Hounds of Tindalos," Alric said. "Pray they do not heed you."  
  
"They'd best pray I don't heed them," Mad Jack said. "Hounds, are they? Whose hounds?"  
  
"I won't endanger you by speaking further of them here." Alric paused. "Samurai Jack-san! We must soon pass beyond time, and will pass beyond good and evil, to where there is only the pure and the foul. Draw out your sword. You, too, Kuro-Jack-san."  
  
They complied. The swords shone. Unlike in the Pit, where Toshiro's sword had glowed white, Mad Jack's red, here they were both bright white.  
  
"See the beautiful curve," Alric said. "Keep it in your minds, all of you. The foul may try to deceive you, but it can never feign beauty, and rarely does it express itself through curves."  
  
"I don't understand," Kiku said.  
  
"Good. Abdul al-Hazred understood, and it sent him mad. All you need do is remember, the pure and the foul."  
  
The Hounds were growing louder. The angles were growing more bizarre, and pressing in around them, until one's head began to spin trying to make sense of the walls, the floor, the cave roof. The Hounds yelped and barked.  
  
"Invoke the pure, under whatever name you know it, for now we'll need all the help we can get," Alric said. "Saint Michael the Archangel! Defend us in battle."  
  
"Hachiman, god of war," Hiroko said, looking around nervously, "bring my family to safety."  
  
"Guan Yin, guide us," Kiku said.  
  
"Great ancestors, help us," Toshiro said. "We have not come here willingly; we intend no evil. Help us leave this foul place, and if it is the will of the gods, help us render it harmless."  
  
Everybody looked expectantly at Mad Jack.  
  
He looked irritated. "What would you have me say? What do I know of gods? I was created by Aku!"  
  
"Then invoke our ancestors," Toshiro said.  
  
"I don't have ancestors, you fool! Don't need them, either."  
  
"You do have ancestors! Are you not my brother? Did we not fight Aku together? My blood flows in you, my ancestors are yours and yours are mine!"  
  
Their eyes locked. The Hounds bayed.  
  
"Kuro-Jack-san," Alric said, "if you wish no help from the pure, then I advise you to take my gun and kill yourself now; it'll be much easier on you."  
  
"You have ancestors," Toshiro repeated, wondering irritably why Mad Jack always had these attacks of petulance at the worst possible times.  
  
"Great ancestors--" Mad Jack began, and paused thoughtfully. "I won't ask any favors of you for myself because I've never done anything for you, but if you exist somewhere, I will ask you to get my wife and my son safely home."  
  
"Honesty is pure," Alric said. "Your chances are much better now. Move on, and prepare for problems, because they're most likely to arise when we pass out of Time. Are you ready?"  
  
Toshiro wasn't sure how to answer a question like that, and nobody else said anything either.  
  
"Let's go, I'll help you all I can." With that, Alric walked straight towards one of the most impossible angles, and just before he vanished into it, he said, "Follow!" 


	3. Chapter 3

THREE  
It took a good bit of nerve to walk into what appeared to be solid rock; Toshiro couldn't help flinching slightly when his nose seemed to be about to collide with the cave wall, but he passed through with no harm.  
  
In his shock and horror, he barely felt Tetsuko's fingernails digging into his collarbones. They must have passed into Hell. The ground was spongy under their feet, as if one were walking on layers of fungoid growths. The air was thick, like fog, violet clouds swirling around them. The yelping was very close. Geometrically impossible shapes were visible here and there, darting close, seeming more curious than hostile, then fading away; Toshiro wondered if they found him as horrible and unnatural as he found them. He was just beginning to think that Alric had betrayed them when he heard the dead minion say, "Is everybody all right?"  
  
"I think so." Hiroko had drawn her dirk.  
  
"One might have told us what was coming!" Mad Jack said.  
  
"No," Kiku said. "Even if he could have described this, if we'd had any idea of what it was, we wouldn't have followed."  
  
"And, unfortunately, it's the only way back to the world," Alric said, and then he fell silent and stood very still.  
  
"What are we waiting for?" Toshiro asked. He felt warm wetness spreading on his back; Tetsuko had wet herself. He reached his free hand back and squeezed her ankle reassuringly.  
  
"Guidance," Alric said. "Be still and watch."  
  
The Hounds bayed. Toshiro wondered what he was supposed to be watching for, but since he had been cautioned to be still, he asked no questions, but waited, silently trying to keep an eye on everything. The swords shone bright white, and the weird shapes took care to avoid the glow. That was all right with Toshiro; he didn't want a close look at those shapes, and, even more, he didn't want the children getting a close look at them.  
  
Mad Jack elbowed his arm and pointed down. At their feet a white glow was forming a path.  
  
"Our prayers were heard," Alric said. "Stay on that path, whatever you do. Remember, there's no time here; if you fall off, you'll spend eternity in this place."  
  
They set off. The path was narrow; one had to step carefully as chaos pressed in from either side. The Hounds would press so close that at times one could smell a carrion odor, see their eyes glowing yellow, hear their drooling and snuffling. They snapped as close as they could to peoples' heels, as if trying to startle them into stepping off the path. Toshiro heard a rythmic clicking sound; after a moment he identified it as Kozuke's teeth chattering.  
  
"Steady on, Kozu-chan," his father said, sounding more gentle than Toshiro would have thought possible.  
  
"I'm all right." Kozuke's shaking voice was shrill. "Let me down and I'll fight them with you."  
  
"I don't intend to fight at their convenience," Mad Jack replied. "After everyone's out safely, I'll come back with the army and clean this place out at my convenience."  
  
A Hound had been snuffling along as close to Toshiro's left foot as it dared without stepping onto the lighted path. Quietly shifting his sword to his left hand, he slashed down suddenly, and was rewarded with a yelp. The others backed off, snarling and snuffling from a safe distance.  
  
"That was a mistake, Samurai Jack," Alric said. "Don't do it again."  
  
Toshiro didn't understand, but, committed now to following the ex- minion, he obeyed. The path sloped down; he wondered if they were leaving the Mountains of Madness. The Hounds stopped snarling and began to pant and whimper anxiously. He heard discordant flute music, and, too close, that slopping sound.  
  
"Saint Michael the Archangel," Alric said softly, "defend us in battle. Be our defense..."  
  
Slopping, dragging, like an impossibly large snail over stone.  
  
"...we humbly pray, and do thou, oh Prince of the Heavenly Host..."  
  
Shrill piping of flutes, a thousand of them playing a thousand different evil tunes at one time. The path seemed dimmer.  
  
"...cast into Hell..."  
  
Shuffling feet, awkwardly dancing to the hideous music. The shapes were clearer now. Kiku racked the slide on Alric's gun.  
  
"...all the evil spirits..."  
  
The path narrowed to a shining thread perhaps a foot wide.  
  
"Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle..." He let Hiroko down gently. "Walk forward in faith, all of you, and do not turn back."  
  
Her voice shook. "Hachiman, Hachiman..." As if she could summon no more coherent thought, she repeated the god's name over and over as she walked. The path faded and strengthened as two elemental forces strove against each other. Now Toshiro understood, vaguely, what Alric had been trying to explain to them. Here it was meaningless to speak of good and evil; what was here was so monstrously unnatural that to call it "evil" was to try to box up fog, to explain the inexplicable, to reduce the utterly alien to terms that did not, could not, explain it. Aku had been evil. This was worse than evil. This was Outside, completely inimical to everything that lived and breathed under the sun.  
  
The path winked out. The Hounds attacked so fast Toshiro barely had time to let Tetsuko down and shove her away from him. The path sparkled, shimmered, wavered.  
  
"Don't let them bite you, their saliva is poisonous!" Alric, who was already dead, struck about among the Hounds, fighting them off barehanded.  
  
Staying on the path, Toshiro spun and dodged and slashed, with Mad Jack beside him. Kiku fired a burst. He heard her drop the empty clip and slam in another one. The Hounds pressed hard.  
  
"Hiroko!" Toshiro ordered. "Get them out of here! I'll follow!"  
  
Out of the corner of his eye he saw her snatch up a child under each arm and take off down the flickering path, saw Kiku hesitate and then follow her son. He spared one glance; Kiku was walking backwards, shooting Hounds as she went, and then they passed round a bend and were lost to sight.  
  
He threw up his left hand as a Hound leaped at his face. 


	4. Chapter 4

FOUR  
Hiroko hustled the children along the fragile thread of light. The gunfire still sounded close behind her, so she hoped Kiku was keeping up, but didn't pause to make sure. One had to get the children out first; once she escaped with them, if she escaped with them, she could, if necessary, seek help and go back for the adults. Both children were crying. Things flopped and swooped and danced around them, things she saw only out of the corner of her eye, and that was good. Instinct kept her from looking directly at those misshapen, obscene things. Her pains, that had begun a few hours ago, were growing stronger.  
  
A rock wall loomed up ahead of her. She noticed that the path seemed to run into the conjunction of wall and floor. She headed straight for the wall...  
  
...and passed through.  
  
"We're out!" Kiku said behind her.  
  
Hiroko let Kozuke down, and caught her daughter to her. They were in a barren valley, surrounded by sheer cliffs. Hiroko had grown up in the shadow of Fujisan; she understood mountains and normally loved them. These mountains, though, seemed to be frowning down on her, hovering with hostile intent.  
  
The hills weren't the only things that had hostile intent. Scrambling over the broken ground were impossibly pale people, most of whom seemed to be deformed in one way or the other, and those horrible moving masses of mold. They were chanting the name of Zankoku, and waving sticks and scythes. The women hurried the children behind a large rock.  
  
"O-samurai!" Kiku tossed her the phone. "Open it up; push the red button; speak into it. If you see a person's picture in the little window, that means he can hear you. As long as he can hear you--that is called being connected--he can tell where we are. If you don't see anybody, keep pushing the button. Speak, wait a moment, then push the button again."  
  
Hiroko followed instructions. Tetsuko was crying for her father; Hiroko had to hush her firmly, for fear that the person who might appear in the magic phone wouldn't be able to hear.  
  
Kiku peeked out cautiously. "Who are you? What do you want?"  
  
"We are the servants of Zankoku!" a man with three eyes called back. "You trespass on his land!"  
  
"I assure you we didn't come here deliberately," Kiku replied, "and we will leave as soon as we can."  
  
"No, he doesn't mind if we kill trespassers," the man said. "And we are hungry."  
  
The little window in the magic phone flickered. "This is Minamoto Hiroko speaking; I am the wife of--" She recalled the name her husband had used in this horrible land. "--Samurai Jack. There are four of us here, we need help urgently." The window went dark. She pushed the red button again.  
  
**********************************  
  
The surviving Hounds had run off, somewhat to Mad Jack's regret; despite the seriousness of the situation, he had been enjoying the fight. He wiped his sword and turned to speak to Samurai Jack. Samurai Jack was swaying on his feet. His left hand was swelling rapidly.  
  
"The Hound's tooth scratched me when I threw up my hand," he said.  
  
"Did you suck it?"  
  
"I did, but I don't feel very well."  
  
Mad Jack turned to Alric.  
  
"There's no treatment I know of," Alric said. "You live or you die. Although it may not matter now. Zankoku comes."  
  
Mad Jack had been so busy he hadn't paid much attention to the slopping sound as it grew louder. He paid attention now, as Zankoku hove into view. Zankoku was the ugliest beast Mad Jack had ever seen in his life. He stood about twenty feet high, and was egg-shaped, made of some gray-green gelatinous substance that jiggled in a disgusting fashion and gave off an astounding stench. He was covered with concentric circles of tentacles, each ending in a fringed, sucking mouth. Most of the tentacles bore red eyes, that blinked in some random order. Up near the top of the egg was a beak. The beak moved, and a thick suety voice spoke. "I am the lord of these mountains."  
  
"I'm very impressed," Mad Jack said. Behind him Samurai Jack sat down suddenly. Mad Jack scooped up his dropped sword.  
  
The tentacles were moving about, cautiously trying to reach past the glowing blades. "I want Samurai Jack."  
  
Mad Jack grinned. "Come and get him."  
  
*************************  
  
"I think I have five rounds left," Kiku said.  
  
There were at least twenty of Zankoku's servants still standing. The women glanced at each other. Hiroko continued to try the magic phone as the servants of Zankoku edged closer. Kiku fired a round. Hiroko heard a yell but didn't look up. "This is Minamoto Hiroko speaking. I am the wife of Samurai Jack. There are four of us. We need help urgently--"  
  
The little window flickered to life, showing a perfect tiny picture of a man's face. "Minamoto-san! We have your position! We should be there in twelve minutes."  
  
Hiroko relayed the message, looking up as she did so. The servants of Zankoku were perhaps two hundred yards away. She feared the twelve minutes the man had promised would be about ten minutes too late. "We are under attack," she said, struggling to control her voice as labor pains racked her. "Can you reach us more quickly?"  
  
"We'll try," he said.  
  
Hiroko looked around. Besides Alric's nearly empty pistol, the only things available to them that could be used as weapons were her dirk and a few rocks lying around. She couldn't throw very well, she doubted she could bring down an enemy with one of the rocks. The servants of Zankoku must have deduced that Kiku was low on ammunition, for they had quickened their approach.  
  
"We're going to die, aren't we?" Kozuke said in a small voice. His chin quivered. "I want to die like Father would. I want to die like a samurai."  
  
"If it comes to that, you will, I have a dagger and we can die fighting," Hiroko said reassuringly, "but we're not going to give up yet. When your mother has used her last bullet, I will give her my knife and you three will run, and I will try to keep the enemy occupied."  
  
Chilly wind blew hard. They waited.  
  
*******************************  
  
It seemed to Mad Jack that he had been hacking at Zankoku for hours. His back and his arms ached fiercely. Since it was impossible to see around Zankoku's bulk, he had no idea if Alric were helping or even what might have happened to him. Some time ago he had tripped over Samurai Jack, who had, at the time, been lying helpless on the shining path, shivering and vomiting; there would be no aid from that quarter.  
  
The puslike ichor that flowed from Zankoku's wounds stank terribly and seemed to give off some sort of irritating fumes. Mad Jack's eyes burned and watered, his throat felt raw, he was tormented with thirst, and whenever he got a particularly strong whiff of Zankoku's blood he would have to fight the urge to retch. He didn't think he could keep this up much longer, and he didn't seem to be doing all that much damage anyway. As far as he could tell, all he had done with however many hundred cuts he'd made was inflict the equivalent of minor bleeding scrapes.  
  
If you can't accomplish anything from the outside in, go from the inside out.  
  
Mad Jack blinked. The thought had come to him completely formed, almost like a sentence that someone else had spoken inside his head. He had never had such an experience before, and even as he cut and slashed and dodged, he couldn't help wondering.  
  
"Why not? I don't have a better idea," he said, and stepped into the nearest tentacle, into slime and darkness and air so thick with that obscene stench that he could barely draw it into his lungs. He held one of the magic swords out, and it began tugging him forward. He followed its lead, into dripping slimy darkness. When the sword stopped tugging, Mad Jack started slashing.  
  
Zankoku howled in pain. Encouraged, Mad Jack thrust one of the swords through his belt, and, firmly wrapping both hands around the hilt of the other, he put his remaining strength into one good hard pear-splitter, raising the shining sword over his head and bringing it down hard into the stinking gelatinous goo wrapped around him.  
  
Zankoku blew apart. Mad Jack slammed down hard on his back, cracking his right elbow painfully on the cave floor. Covered with gobbets of slimy flesh, he sat up, wiping the stinking gunk out of his eyes. The first thing he saw was Alric crawling to his feet.  
  
"Nobody ever tried that before," Alric said. "Good idea you had."  
  
"It wasn't my idea," Mad Jack said irrelevantly, hoisting himself up with difficulty. Pain was shooting down to his fingertips, but the elbow didn't seem to be broken. His slime-covered hair fell in his eyes and he shoved it back, the slime plastering it down. He could see now. Late afternoon overcast daylight was flooding in from where the cave wall had blown out. He looked around. "Where's he at?"  
  
Alric looked around too. Nothing and no one could be seen. They waded through the knee-deep sludge, searching. They never found the water bottle, but they finally found Samurai Jack, or rather found his foot sticking out from a mound of goo. They scraped and shoved it off of him. Mad Jack felt under the hinge of his jaw. "He's got a pulse, but it's too fast."  
  
Alric chafed Samurai Jack's wrists. Presently he stirred. "What happened?"  
  
"We got rid of Zankoku," Mad Jack said.  
  
"This could become a normal cave now," Alric said. "Kuro-Jack-san, you'd better get him out of here and try to get him to a doctor. I'd help, but..." He smiled sadly. "I'm bound to this place."  
  
"Oh. Hell. I'd nearly forgotten." Ignoring the painful protest of his elbow, Mad Jack stood up and prepared to swing that sword one last time. "It was an honor to fight beside you, sir. Hold still."  
  
The moment he struck off Alric's head, both head and body turned to dust that glowed briefly, and then settled, the glow extinguishing as it sank into the goo. Mad Jack wiped the sword, put it up, and crouched beside Samurai Jack, pulling him up to a sitting position. "Can you stand up?"  
  
"Don't waste time with me. Go find the others and help them."  
  
"Do you have to be so damned noble all the time? It's irritating! Listen, fool. Do you think I can search an entire mountain range? I have no hope of finding them by myself. All I can do now is try to get us to safety. If I do, then I can lead a search. Can you stand up?"  
  
Shivering, Samurai Jack shook his head.  
  
Mad Jack was suddenly aware of how completely exhausted he was. He felt as if it would be an effort to lift a chopstick. He looked down at Samurai Jack. "You carried me, I ought to be able to carry you. Can you put your good arm around my neck?"  
  
Samurai Jack tried but fell back weakly.  
  
"Hold on as best you can, then. On three. Ichi--ni--san!"  
  
Somehow, he stood up. The goo sucked at his feet like thick battlefield mud, and he belatedly noticed that, like his patient, he had lost his shoes. He pulled his right foot free and took a step. He pulled his left foot free and took a step. Samurai Jack vomited onto his chest. Mad Jack wished they had a phone.  
  
He kept going. The goo thickened; trying to walk through it was like struggling through a thigh-deep pool of peanut butter. His heart pounded, sweat poured down his face. He jerked his foot loose, felt something pop in his lower back. Bright pain flared.  
  
He kept going. Further on the goo thinned out and moving was easier, though still painfully slow. Mad Jack was very worried about Samurai Jack, who seemed to be drifting away from him, but he could not possibly go any faster.  
  
Samurai Jack was alive when they left the broken cave. Mad Jack squished his way through a thin layer of goo and leaned against the mossy cliff. He could go no further without rest, but he knew better than to sit down. If he sat down, he'd stiffen up...  
  
"Kuro-Jack-san?" Samurai Jack said weakly, and Mad Jack's head snapped up; he had almost fallen asleep standing there. "Kuro-Jack-san, I want some water, please."  
  
"There isn't any." Mad Jack's mouth was so dry he could barely talk.  
  
"Did she get the children and your wife out?"  
  
"I hope so," Mad Jack said, looking around. Among the broken rocks was something that, at one time when these mountains were normal and populated by normal living things, might have been a pass. The way up was much clearer but steep; he knew he couldn't do it, not now.  
  
He started down.  
  
**********************************  
  
Kiku had two rounds left. They were out of time. Hiroko started to hand her the sheathed dagger, then looked up as she heard a strange noise from the sky, like no thunder she'd ever heard.  
  
"It's a chopper!" Kozuke pulled off his bright red shirt and began waving it frantically. "Mother, they found us! It's a chopper!"  
  
An impossibly large, strangely built bird, with four paddle-like wings growing out of its head, flew over them, and the bird opened fire on the servants of Zankoku. Hiroko stared, her wonder distracting her even from her increasingly sharp pains. The bird dropped a soft bundle. Hiroko nudged it cautiously with her foot, and heard it slosh. Water! She snatched it up, unrolled the bundle to find a large bottle. She opened it and let each child drink. Now flying boxes with rounded edges were circling. "Kiku-san, will the bird look for our husbands?"  
  
"Yes. Yes, it will," Kiku said. Tears ran silently down her face. The boxes were circling. "See those cars? They're looking for a place to land and take us out of here." She smiled through her tears and set the gun down on the ground.  
  
Hiroko's tears started too. "Pray that they find my lord. I'm very fond of him." She drank, handed the bottle over, managed a shaky smile. "When I was first told I was to marry him, I wasn't at all happy about it; I had never met him, nor corresponded with him, but I knew he was the one who had been chosen to try to stop Aku. Not a good marital prospect, to say the least! He wrote letters, from all the places he was sent to train, and if he happened to have any money he would send little souvenirs. He seemed nice enough, but what good's a husband who's off chasing Aku? Suppose Aku won, which seemed likely, after all; he'd avenge himself on your children!" She paused, riding a wave of pain, then went on. "Toshiro came home two weeks before we were to marry. It was winter. There was much snow that year. The date was selected for convenience; there was no such thing as an auspicious date during the time of Aku." Hiroko noticed one of the boxes circling lower, it must have selected a safe landing spot. "During the two weeks, we had some time to get better acquainted, in person. He is the kindest, most unselfish person I have ever known. Despite my misgivings, by the time we married, I had come to love him."  
  
"I think everyone who knows him loves him," Kiku said as the car settled itself on the rocky ground, "and we will do our best to find him." 


	5. Chapter 5

FIVE  
  
Beep.  
  
Beep.  
  
Beep.  
  
Toshiro stirred. Some bird was sounding off, a bird with a remarkably irritating call...  
  
Beep.  
  
Beep.  
  
He tried to ignore it. He was terribly tired, too tired to want to bother getting up and closing the window. He felt that he could easily sleep for a week. His left hand ached and felt prickly. He must have slept on his arm wrong; the hand had been sensitive to cold, and certain kinds of pressure, ever since the Imakandi snake had bitten him.  
  
Beep.  
  
His futon felt oddly spongy, too soft. He shifted position, threw out his right arm.  
  
There was nobody beside him. Maybe Hiroko had left the room to escape the rhythmic, annoying, high-pitched chirping. Toshiro rolled over to the right and pulled his pillow over his head. His pillow was too soft too, certainly not filled with rusks. It felt rather like those pillows people used in the future, the ones filled with foam or feathers.  
  
Beep. Beep. Beep.  
  
"Oh, hell," Toshiro murmured. He'd have to get up and close the window. He moved the pillow and started to sit up. His head whirled and he flopped right back down. Cautiously lifting his head, he looked around. He was in a hospital bed, with the rails up on both sides. His bandaged left hand, swollen fingertips peeping out, was propped on a pillow. His left arm was bruised and swollen nearly to his shoulder. His throat was scratchy and there was a dry, foul taste in his mouth. An IV tube ran into the inner bed of his right elbow. Two little paper circles were taped to his chest. The wires running out of the circles led to a machine that was emitting those annoying beeps. Toshiro was completely disoriented. There were no hospitals in his own time, none of this equipment had been invented yet; had he dreamed defeating Aku, dreamed going home, dreamed having a daughter?  
  
Maybe if he shut off that noise he could think. He studied the machine, but didn't find an OFF switch. His swords were on the night table beside him, but, weak and shaky as he was, he wasn't sure he could swing hard enough to silence the machine--  
  
Swords. He had only had one when he had been thrown into the future--  
  
His mind cleared, he remembered, he struggled up to a sitting position, clinging to the bed railing for support. He had to try to find his wife and daughter.  
  
A toilet flushed. A door at the side of the room opened, and Hiroko came out. In a chest carrier she bore a little bundle wrapped in a bright red plaid blanket, a bundle that moved slightly. "Toshi-chan!" she exclaimed in delight, and hurried over and kissed him passionately. He was quite sure his breath stank. Hiroko didn't seem to mind. "Toshi-chan! You're awake! Really awake!" She kissed him again, and drew the baby out of the carrier. "Meet your son."  
  
"My son?" Toshiro pushed the button that raised the bed.  
  
"Look at that! I didn't know it did that," Hiroko said. He leaned back and she carefully settled the baby into the crook of his good arm.  
  
"Where's Tetsu?"  
  
"Over there taking her nap. We've stayed right with you." Hiroko pointed. Toshiro leaned to the left a little, so he could see past the foot of his bed. There was a futon spread out on the floor, in which Tetsuko slept.  
  
"Is she all right?" he asked. "Are you all right?"  
  
"Everyone's fine, nobody was hurt except you. We've been very concerned about you."  
  
"When did you have the baby?"  
  
"Four days ago."  
  
"Did you have any trouble?"  
  
"None at all. It didn't even hurt."  
  
Toshiro started to reply and his voice caught and broke in his dry throat.  
  
"Here, have some water," Hiroko said, picking up a pitcher at the far side of the table. She held the glass for him while he drank. "Better?" He nodded and drank some more. "They stuck a magic needle in my back, like acupuncture, but there was only one needle, and I went numb. I could feel the baby coming out but it didn't hurt."  
  
"There are a few good things about the future," Toshiro said, looking at the baby. He had the wide Tokugawa eyes but otherwise seemed to take after Hiroko. His little rosebud mouth moved and he made tiny sounds.  
  
"Katsushiro," Hiroko said with mock formality, "I present you to the shogun."  
  
"Four days," Toshiro repeated. "I don't remember a thing."  
  
"You woke up now and again, and sometimes you'd talk, but it didn't make much sense. The people in that box on the wall--" Hiroko indicated the television. "--talked about your condition every day, at noon and at six. You're well-liked here, Toshi-chan."  
  
The baby stirred. Toshiro nuzzled the downy head, enjoying the sweet baby scent. "Katsu-chan, Katsu-chan," he said softly. He noticed a shoe box on the windowsill.  
  
"We all expected you to die. On the third day, a man came. He's a very small man, almost like a dwarf. His name is Xtor and he said you were his friend--"  
  
"Xtor!"  
  
"He's a scientist, whatever that is, but anyway, he said he'd been working on a universal poison antidote, and offered it. He warned us he hadn't tried it on any human beings yet, but you had nothing to lose, you were on the verge of death, so I told him to go ahead and try it. He put the medicine in one of those magic needles and used the needle to put it in your arm. You were still alive that night, so he gave you some more medicine, and you've been doing better ever since. He left last night to go make more medicine, in case you relapsed. He'll be back sometime today. Kiku-san will be here to see you, too." Hiroko smiled. "She'll bring her baby for you to see."  
  
"I'll be happy to see Xtor again," Toshiro said. "And as soon as I have, we'll go home."  
  
"I don't think you're well enough." Hiroko smiled again. "But you probably will be by the time you finish the list."  
  
"List?"  
  
"We have a six-page list of people who say they know you and want to visit you. The only ones we've had in so far were Xtor-san and people from clan MacNeal." Hiroko smiled again. "Colin-san said you were an honorary member of clan MacNeal, and now the rest of us are too. Katsu's blanket is their clan plaid. Your clan plaid is like your mon."  
  
"Six pages!" Toshiro repeated, surprised. He had met a good many people in the future, but most of them only in passing; he wouldn't have expected six pages' worth of people to remember him. "Hiro-chan, where are we?"  
  
"The Samurai Jack Hospital in Kyoto. In the future many places are named after you."  
  
"They are?"  
  
"Shows good judgment on their part," Hiroko said cheerfully. The baby whimpered, then began to cry. Once she had her breast free, Toshiro handed him back so she could feed him. They heard rattling out in the hall, the sound of armored samurai approaching; used as they were to the sound of armor, neither of them paid much attention until the Mad Jack family came in. The loud squalling of Kiku's baby roused Tetsuko.  
  
"Father!" she cried joyfully. She snatched the shoe box from the windowsill and scrambled up onto his bed. "Look! We folded a thousand cranes so you'd get well!"  
  
"And it worked, I feel much better," Toshiro said. There were indeed quite a few cranes in the shoe box (though nowhere near a thousand). The fully armored Mad Jack held the indignantly yowling baby, whose face had turned nearly as red as his eyes, and handed him to Kiku when she was ready to feed him. Welcome quiet returned.  
  
"He has good healthy lungs," Toshiro observed, moving his feet. "Please, sit down, Kiku-san." She sat down on the foot of the bed.  
  
"He's loud," said Kozuke, who was also armored, a little miniature of his father. "He poops a lot, too. He's really not much fun. All he does is eat and sleep and cry and poop."  
  
"When he gets bigger he'll be more fun," Kiku said. "As I recall, you also did a good deal of eating and sleeping and crying and pooping."  
  
"Yes indeed," Mad Jack said. "I was afield, but whenever I'd call home, I'd hear you in the background. You were at least as loud as Daisuke."  
  
Toshiro smiled at Kozuke. "You look as if you're going afield now."  
  
Kozuke looked unhappy. "I'd like to but everybody says I'm too little. But I could fight if they'd give me the chance!"  
  
"You could not," Tetsuko scoffed. "All you have is training swords! You don't even have arrows!"  
  
"That's enough," Toshiro said. "Every samurai has to start somewhere. Right, Kozu-chan? How do you like your armor?"  
  
"It gets hot," Kozuke admitted. "Is that why you didn't wear it?"  
  
"No, I didn't wear it because I foolishly left in a great hurry, for fear that Aku would get away from me. And I paid for it, too. I bear a good many scars that I wouldn't bear if I'd been properly armored. Not to mention freezing through four winters. Don't repeat my mistake. Wear your armor."  
  
"Yes, sir," Kozuke said.  
  
"And don't do what I did and run out without your wakizashi. You should always have that with you, even if you haven't got your katana."  
  
"I've got them both." Kozuke looked thoughtful. "I never thought Samurai Jack made mistakes!"  
  
Toshiro laughed. "Samurai Jack made more mistakes than you could count!"  
  
Kozuke thought that over. Tetsuko snuggled under Toshiro's good arm. Hiroko rearranged her clothes and began burping the baby. Except for the monotonous beeping, the room was quiet and tranquil for a few moments. Then Agatha arrived, and, as usual when members of clan MacNeal were around, tranquil stillness abruptly came to an end. She swooped down on Toshiro and kissed him and fluffed his pillow and tucked him in and fussed over him, made much of both babies, took Daisuke and burped him in a familiar, aunt-like way, handed him back, and caught Mad Jack up in a hug, saying, "How's yer back, laddie?"  
  
"Much better," he said, although he wiggled away quickly. "You're a little late."  
  
"Traffic!" Agatha said. "Backed up for six blocks, all the way from the ground to the highest air lane. I did hear on the news that Jack's condition is upgraded from 'critical' to 'serious,' so maybe it'll clear out a bit now."  
  
"What's my condition have to do with traffic?" Toshiro asked.  
  
"Have ye looked out yer window, dear lad?"  
  
"No, not yet," he said, looking over as Kozuke helpfully opened the curtain, and his jaw dropped. People were elbow-to-elbow on the lawn, and there were many banners held up. All of them said things like GET WELL SAMURAI JACK and WE LOVE YOU JACK and GET WELL SOON. Most of the signs were in Japanese, but quite a few were in English, Chinese, Arabic, Swahili, and a good many other languages he couldn't read.  
  
"That reminds me, the hospital would like you to issue a statement about all the gifts and flowers," Kiku said. "They're running out of storage space. If you don't feel well enough to write it, we will, and you can sign it."  
  
"Gifts and flowers?" Toshiro repeated. "From whom?"  
  
"From everybody!" Kiku smiled at him. "What did you expect?"  
  
"I didn't expect this!" Toshiro said. "I don't even know all those people!"  
  
"They know you." Agatha kissed his forehead. He gazed out the window, shaking his head in disbelief. Agatha continued, "Now that I've finally arrived, who'd like to go for ice cream?"  
  
"I would, I would, I would!" Kozuke said, beginning to bounce. Tetsuko hesitated.  
  
"Go ahead, I'm not going anywhere," Toshiro said.  
  
She wavered.  
  
"Could you bring us back some?" Hiroko prompted, and at that, Tetsuko slid off the bed and went out with the other two.  
  
"Hiro-san," Toshiro said, "please write something to the effect that I am humbly grateful for all the kindness but that I really do not need anything, so the people should please send the gifts to the needy." He looked out the window again, still having difficulty believing all this although he was seeing it plainly, and then looked back as Mad Jack sat down stiffly beside the bed. "Are you all right? I thought I was the only one who was hurt."  
  
"You were the only one who was seriously hurt. I popped a muscle in my back," Mad Jack replied. "Everyone else had nothing worse than scrapes and bruises."  
  
"I was worried about the children," Kiku said, fishing in the diaper bag, "but they seem to be doing all right. I guess children are more resilient than we give them credit for."  
  
"You can be proud of your son, he's very brave," Hiroko said.  
  
"Yes," Toshiro added, "I expect he'll be a fine samurai when he grows up."  
  
"If I let him grow up," Mad Jack said, taking the folder Kiku withdrew from the bag.  
  
Toshiro grunted in inquiry.  
  
"He reveres you. He has the storybooks, the videos, the posters, the toys, on and on and on and on. It's annoying."  
  
"I'm sorry," Toshiro said politely, although privately he thought that was pretty funny. "What happened? The last thing I recall is being attacked by those wild dogs." He listened with interest as the other three filled him in, was relieved that Mad Jack had remembered to help Alric, and humbly thanked Mad Jack for saving his life.  
  
"Hmmph!" Mad Jack said, and went on. "After we all got back to civilization and everyone was taken care of, it was clear something would have to be done about all that, so I took the Rising Sun--they're our best troops--and we went out to reconnoiter."  
  
"He went against medical advice, I might add," Kiku put in.  
  
"Don't start, woman. What was I to do, tell those freaks to please wait until my back stopped hurting?--Now, as I was saying before I was interrupted, we went out to reconnoiter, and what we found was, not to exaggerate, shocking. That's why we wanted to get the children out, we didn't want them to see the pictures.  
  
"For centuries the Mountains of Madness have been uninhabited, or so everybody thought. No one really wanted to go close enough to look. As we found out, the mountains are inhabited. They're inhabited by inbred, depraved worshippers of Zankoku and the other Old Ones, and the things that go on...well, look for yourself." Mad Jack opened the folder for Toshiro.  
  
Toshiro felt the blood drain out of his face as he looked at the first picture. The others were even worse. Cannibalism, depraved practices, vile rituals that one would not have imagined in one's worst nightmares. When he finished he closed the folder and Kiku stashed it safely away. "It outrages me," he said, "that such things go on in Japan."  
  
"Worse than that," Mad Jack said. "We alerted the Council of Nations, in case we needed help--after all the fighting we're just recovering from, our military budget this year is about twelve yen--and it occurred to the Chinese that maybe they ought to check their own wild, forbidden areas, just in case. And when they reported back on what they found, everybody else started checking. Jack-san, these unnatural cults are all over the world. The gods alone know all the things they've done, but the Chinese Foreign Minister mentioned, and I agree with her, that, since they're cannibals, they probably could tell you quite a lot about many unsolved disappearances over the centuries. We captured one cultist alive, and shot him full of truth serum. A lot of what he said sounded like gibberish, you'd have to question more of them to understand it thoroughly, but it does seem clear that they want to assist these Old Ones to drag the world off to some place for some purpose, and it also seems clear that the rest of us wouldn't be at all happy if they succeeded. Conditions would probably be worse than under Aku.  
  
"Now that you have seen those pictures, I am sure you won't laugh when I tell you my crack troops were frightened by what we saw."  
  
"No indeed," Toshiro said. "Even the pictures are quite frightening enough."  
  
"And so the Japanese people would like your help. The human race would like your help." Mad Jack flushed, made several false starts, finally forced it out. "I'd like your help."  
  
"I? What can I do?"  
  
"When you and I can fight..." Mad Jack fidgeted. "We'd like you to join the effort. If they scared the Rising Sun, we--well, quite frankly we fear the regulars would cut and run when they saw the worst. Not to mention if they encountered one of the Old Ones. Having Samurai Jack along would boost the morale, and when we get into the thick of it, there's no doubt the morale will need boosting."  
  
No! I gave these people four years of my life! They've had enough! Toshiro thought, and almost said, but he swallowed the instinctive refusal and tried to consider the idea objectively. Finally he said, "What are my alternatives? Does the time portal still work?"  
  
"Oh, yes. You can go home now if you like," Kiku said, watching him compassionately, "and no one would think the less of you if you did."  
  
He drank water and thought it over. "You're armored now for morale purposes?" he said to Mad Jack.  
  
"Yes. It would take several weeks to plan a campaign. While we plan, I thought I'd better start trying to inspire our samurai. You've plenty of time to think it over." Mad Jack smiled faintly. "Kozuke-chan overheard me on the phone with Major-General Yamada of the Rising Sun, he wanted to fight with us. I had him armored as a sort of consolation prize."  
  
"Are the warriors of the Rising Sun genuine samurai?" Toshiro asked. "I thought there were few left in this time."  
  
"My late Kozuke, Kuro-Jack, and yourself were the only three I ever met," Kiku said. "One heard stories of others, but if they live, no one knows where to find them."  
  
"Aku suppressed the old ways, so there was hardly anyone to teach samurai," Mad Jack said. The unspoken hint hung in the air.  
  
"I can't be in two places at once," Toshiro said. "My father retired. I am supposed to rule at home. Hiro-san! Have you seen the pictures?"  
  
"Yes, my lord."  
  
"What's your opinion?"  
  
"I will accede to whatever wise decision my lord takes."  
  
"Thank you. Now, what's your opinion?"  
  
"I think," Hiroko said, "that human beings, past, present, or future, have a duty to put an end to these abominations."  
  
"Since the time portal works," Toshiro said, pondering, "we can talk it over with the rest of the family. Hiro-san, take the pictures, go home, explain what happened, show them to my parents, your parents; show them to your brother. See what they all think. Then report back.--There's no reason it can't be used in such a manner, is there?"  
  
"No," Kiku said, "although the scientists do advise limited use when going backwards for fear that it's possible to alter the past. For example, Kuro-Jack goes back, gets hungry, tries to shoot a rabbit, accidentally shoots your grandfather. Then you don't exist, Kuro-Jack doesn't exist, no one destroys Aku..." She shrugged. "On the other hand, it can be argued that since you and he do exist, since Aku has been destroyed, that the rabbit incident could never happen. One can go both ways on it, endlessly."  
  
"We'll be cautious," Toshiro said. "Hiro-san, once you have accomplished your task, report straight back. And you'd better leave as soon as Tetsu gets back."  
  
************************************  
  
While he waited to hear from the family, Toshiro ate, slept, moved around his room regaining his strength a day at a time, issued a statement of gratitude to the public and a request to donate gifts to the needy, was interviewed twice, missed his wife and children, and worked through the visitor list. He would never have thought all those people whom he had met in passing would come to visit him. Some of them had come great distances at considerable expense.  
  
He was visited by an innkeeper, along with the man's daughter, Olivia, whom he'd once helped out. He had nearly forgotten the incident, a minor sidetrack in the search for Aku, but they hadn't. Both of them were overcome with tears at seeing Toshiro's condition; they pulled themselves together long enough to assure his family of free lifetime lodging before they left. (Recalling the inn, Toshiro had no intention of ever taking advantage of the offer.) He was visited by a shoe salesman who had been kind enough to try to fit him with a free pair when his shoes had been destroyed, and he was visited by the family who had finally replaced his shoes. He was visited by three warriors whom he'd managed to free from an evil spirit in a well. He was visited by the talking dogs whom he'd met when he first arrived in the future. The Triseraquins sent pounds of fish for sushi. Clan MacNeal was constantly in and out. People who had been unwilling gladiators in the Dome of Doom came to see him, some from other countries. Xtor came to check on him at least once a day. The visitors came, and came, and came, and, to his frank amazement, all of them told him how he had changed their lives for the better. He even received visits from reformed bounty hunters. On his sixth day in the hospital, he had worked down the list to "Mr. and Mrs. Ezekiel Clench," and when they came in Toshiro stared rudely. He would not have recognized them. Zeke was cleaned up, and Josie was no longer falling out of her dress, no longer overpainted. She looked perfectly respectable.  
  
"Everything we have, we owe to you," she explained. "If you're hanging from a trestle, you have a lot of time to think while you wait for someone to come along and rescue you. We realized we'd wasted our lives. We remarried, we saw a counselor so we'd get along better, and we found honest work. We run a dude ranch. That's where people come to play cowboy."  
  
"You have children?" Zeke asked.  
  
"Two," Toshiro said absently, still trying to get used to the change in the pair.  
  
"Bring 'em! They'll love it. You'll love it. It's on us, of course. And while you're there, could you do a public service announcement for us? We have a therapeutic riding program for handicapped children; we don't charge the families, we absorb the entire cost, so we can always use donations."  
  
Speechless, Toshiro nodded, and, for a long time after they'd gone, he sat staring thoughtfully at the door. He was still thinking matters over when he was well enough to go home, and so he was careful to make no commitments before he stepped through the time portal, only promising that he would return with his decision in six weeks, that being the additional interval the doctors had recommended for full recovery.  
  
Six weeks later, under bright May sunshine, the Queen of Japan stood in front of the time portal at high noon, with her baby in her arms and her other son in her side, accompanied by the General of the Japanese Army and a Rising Sun honor guard. They all watched expectantly as Tetsuko came through, followed by Hiroko, who held the baby. Then there came a hundred fifty armed and armored samurai, and, the people of the future noticed with rising hope, they all had attendants who all held luggage.  
  
"These are some of our warriors," Hiroko said. "They saw the pictures, they heard the story, and they wanted to help. They'll help train and help fight." She paused for greetings and bows. "This is my brother, Minamoto no Ashikaga no Hiroyuki. Kozu-chan! Hiroyuki-kun's your uncle. Or something like that."  
  
"Thank you all, we can use all the help we can get," Kiku said, even as she tried to peer unobtrusively past the crowd that blocked her view of the portal. "Is--is anyone else coming?"  
  
"There's one more," Hiroko said. "He was having trouble getting his horse to step through the portal."  
  
When he came through, he came on foot, and the horns on his helmet gleamed in the sunlight, and his lacquered black armor shone, and the arrows in his quiver rattled in the breeze, and the men of the Rising Sun who were close enough to see his face began to applaud, and the others took it up, and he waited patiently, bowing slightly, until the applause died.  
  
"Well, ladies and gentlemen," said Samurai Jack, "let's see if we can't get that mess cleaned up." 


End file.
